


Yours

by freoduweard



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Anal Sex, I promised smut so very long ago and after much procrastination have finally delivered, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut, Uniform Kink, Wall Sex, along with banter and feelings and possessiveness and trust, because I cannot just write smut on its own
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:38:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9141337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freoduweard/pseuds/freoduweard
Summary: Heralds, but was he ever going to get used to that sight? A lighteyes, a prince,myprince, kneeling before him like a conquered lord.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to yavieriel for her excellent, patient, and thorough beta work, even if it meant bantering back and forth for half an hour about a single word.

Kaladin’s back hit the wall with a solid thump. His hands fisted in the fabric of Adolin’s uniform coat, pulling him forward, even as the prince surged in to crowd right up against his front. Kaladin fumbled with the buttons of Adolin’s waistcoat, cursing them and the other man both as Adolin kissed his way up the length of Kaladin’s jaw until he found the patch of soft skin behind the ear. Brushing aside thick black curls, Adolin set his tongue to it, and Kaladin shivered at the feel of breath coasting over damp skin. Adolin’s blunt fingernails scraped lightly down the nape of his neck, evoking memories of gently nipping teeth.

“Aiming for the weak points already, princeling?” He forced back the groan that threatened to rumble up from his chest - that sharp, short stroke was sending sparks down his spine, his back arching up and away from the wall in response. Adolin caught it anyway, what with his lips practically at Kaladin’s throat, and the prince's low laugh vibrated against the skin at the juncture of jaw and neck.

“You say that as if you expected anything less.” Kaladin could actually _feel_ the grin, the smooth slide and slight edge of teeth.  “Come now, _captain_ , I need all the advantages I can get.”

“You? Need _advantages_? That’s storm-leavings, Kholin, and you know it.” He finally got the last of the buttons open on Adolin’s waistcoat. The smaller, pearled-shell buttons of the undershirt beneath opened easily in comparison. Kaladin stroked the back of his fingers down the other man’s belly, slid his hands over the bared skin of Adolin’s sides as his thumbs followed the contour of the ribs. Kaladin’s breath hitched as Adolin kissed a meandering path up his neck and along the line of his jaw until the corners of their mouths met. Adolin pressed Kaladin back against the wall, well and truly pinned, as Kaladin turned his head, tilting it down to capture the prince in a kiss.

Lips skated against one another, parting to shove tongues past teeth. Kaladin’s hands slipped further around Adolin, under the shirt and heavy coat, spreading his palms wide to feel the play of muscle under the skin, every shifting motion - then dug his fingertips hard into the other man’s back. Smug satisfaction brimmed within him as Adolin hissed, his sharp jerk of surprise shoving Kaladin even harder into the wall behind. The kiss broke, the two parting, and Kaladin could see that Adolin’s pupils were already blown wide, only a thin ring of that fire-bright blue visible. Kaladin smirked. “And whatever happened to ‘Bridgeboy’?”

“What, are you already getting tired of people calling you by your rank? Or your title, _Lord Windrunner?_ ” The grin Adolin flashed was a challenge, but Kaladin was instead drawn to the way those eyes darkened with want, how the pressure of the hand at his hip tightened.

“Should I be calling you _sir_ in bed, princeling?” Kaladin shot back, though the amused curve to his lips was still firmly in place. “Don’t answer that; you’d probably _like_ it.”

Adolin growled at him. “Try it sometime and find out, _Bridgeboy_ ,” he said in an answer that was neither yes nor no as he stepped back just enough to fumble for the laces of Kaladin’s trousers.

 _Perhaps another time, but for now..._ Kaladin’s own hands dropped to Adolin’s pants, mirroring the other man’s motion. “Take them all the way off.”

Adolin paused, and his gaze flicked up to meet Kaladin’s. “I don't keep slick in my pockets, and doubt you do either.” Adolin leaned in, cheekbone brushing along Kaladin’s as he murmured lowly into his ear, “It’s not like we can't have fun without-”

Kaladin reached into his pocket and held up a small, flat-sided bottle of oil.

Adolin stared. “You’re _serious_.”

“Says the one who keeps the day’s choice of cologne on him at all times.”

“Hey! It wears off, all right?” Adolin whined in mock-hurt, but his fingers slid down from the waistband of Kaladin’s trousers to pull at the laces in earnest. Kaladin sucked in a sharp breath as knuckles bumped the prominent bulge where his erection strained against the front of his pants. Adolin’s smile spread into that infuriating grin of his, and he deliberately brushed the back of his fingers down the taut line pressing into the fabric. His steady hand was betrayed by the desire in his eyes. “Fine. Since you’ve proven me wrong, we’ll have it your way.”

Boots scraped against the floor, and Kaladin’s breath stuttered as Adolin sank to one knee. He tugged at the last laces of Kaladin's pants until they were loose, then took the waistband and dragged trousers and smallclothes both down over Kaladin's hips. They caught at the top of his boots, but Kaladin didn’t particularly care at the moment, as he was suddenly all too aware of the rougher material of his coat as it brushed the back of his bare knees and thighs.

Adolin’s breath ghosted warm against sensitive skin. One hand rested on Kaladin's bare upper leg, thumb absentmindedly stroking the crease where hip met thigh, and Adolin leaned in to drag his teeth behind that touch, obviously relishing the tiny tremble it won him. Looking down, Kaladin caught a sliver of colour glancing up behind dark lashes before Adolin took him in his mouth, eyes flickering shut.

Kaladin didn't bother to quiet the shuddering gasp that wracked his frame. One hand braced himself against the wall, the other he buried in Adolin's black-dappled, mismatched hair. He was careful not to pull, not when Adolin was slowly sliding him deeper, cheeks hollowed and lips stretched wide around his shaft- _Heralds_ , but was he ever going to get used to that sight? A lighteyes, a prince, **_my_ ** _prince_ , kneeling before him like a conquered lord... and enthusiastically sucking his cock.

Without looking up or stopping what he was doing, Adolin tapped Kaladin's hip and held up his hand. _The oil._ The plain little bottle was caged tightly in his free hand, back against the wall, and Kaladin sent a silent thanks to Battah for his foresight not to stick it back into his pocket. Considering Adolin was otherwise occupied - Kaladin had to suppress the weakness in his knees as Adolin’s other hand stroked breeze-light at his inner thigh, as the princeling pulled back nearly all the way, the head caught between his lips and the tip of his tongue dancing teasingly over the slit - Kaladin unstoppered the bottle and poured the oil generously over Adolin’s fingers and into his palm, careful not to get any on either of their uniforms.

Slick fingers slid back between Kaladin's legs even as Adolin dragged his tongue down the thick vein on the underside of Kaladin's shaft. A light touch curled around his balls, a fingertip tracing feather-light and teasing along the curve of the thin skin before heading further back. There was a prod, a gentle push at the rim of him, testing how tight the muscle was, and then one finger pressed up inside. It was no real stretch, not yet, but the hand in Adolin's hair still fisted tight - slightly _too_ tight, and a sharp edge scraped against Kaladin's cock in warning. Immediately Kaladin eased his grip with a groaned, breathy _'Sorry’_ , instead apologetically carding his hand through Adolin’s hair, watching the colours split around his fingers as he adjusted to the feel of the welcome intrusion.

Adolin hummed a pleased note as he worked in a second finger, the pad of his thumb kneading the tender span of skin behind Kaladin's balls as his fingers spread inside. Kaladin shuddered, twining his hand in Adolin’s hair. “Yes, _yes_ -” it was a barely-voiced thought, a hoarse murmur, and he bit his lip to stifle the sound as he clenched against the in-and-out drag, the firm pressure of little circles rubbed against him inside that made him stiffen and swell further.

Desire flared, low and molten, and Kaladin dropped the bottle, reaching down to push one side of shirt and coat half-off of Adolin’s shoulder. He dragged his hand up, over shoulder over collarbone and _up_ , splaying wide to feel Adolin’s bared throat move under his palm, feel the muffled groan that rumbled up from the other man’s chest. Adolin’s pulse beat against his thumb. Fast. _Vulnerable_. It was power, it was trust, it was… _heady_ , though even with the dual sensation of warm, slick pressure around him and the slight stretch within him, it wasn’t enough, not _nearly_ enough. “Come on, come on, the next…”

Adolin obliged, withdrawing his fingers so he could slide in a third. Kaladin’s breath caught when the knot of middle knuckles encountered resistance, shoved past it into him, then _spread_ , working him wide as they sunk deeper, bit by bit by bit, until Kaladin was trembling with restraint. He lost that control when  Adolin curled his fingers - once, twice, and on the third a jolt _seared_ up his spine. Kaladin jerked his hips with a stilted groan, felt Adolin’s throat close around him, hot and tight, before the hand at his hip pushed him back into the wall. Adolin drew back - all the way this time, both hand and mouth, leaving Kaladin hard and empty and _wanting_ \- and took a deep breath, coughed, and then another breath that trailed into a laugh.

“ _Warn_ me next time, Bridgeboy.” Adolin’s voice was rough from the abuse, his lips reddened and soft, but Kaladin could see the gleam in his eyes as he wiped his mouth with the back of his clean hand, followed by the pale flicker of his tongue across his lips.

It was too much for Kaladin. He bent over, cupping Adolin’s face between his hands and kissing him hard, tasting himself in his lover’s mouth as Adolin tangled his hand through Kaladin’s hair and dragged him further down. “Perhaps I might,” were the stolen, breathless words caught between bruising kisses, “if you weren’t so storming _smug_ about it, princeling.” Adolin bit Kaladin’s lower lip in retaliation. The sharp sting of teeth was just one more ember to the fire in his belly, and Kaladin growled into the kiss. “Why do you still have your trousers on?”

“Because _yours_ still need to come off.”

 _...fair point._ Kaladin straightened and heeled both of his boots loose, lifting one foot after the other so that Adolin could help pull them off and toss them aside. With nothing keeping them up, his pants slid the rest of the way down as his boots came off, and Kaladin kicked them out of the way - for once not particularly caring about where they ended up.

Adolin swiped the oil bottle from where it had fallen, then stood, tangling his free hand in Kaladin’s waistcoat and diving back in for another kiss. Kaladin made quick work of the lacing on the front of Adolin’s trousers - mostly by feel, reaching blindly for the ties and pulling when he found them - then hooked his thumbs into the waist and shoved them along with the underclothes down over Adolin’s hips.

“Impatient much?” Adolin laughed as he trailed kisses down from Kaladin’s mouth, nosing under his jawline to suck a light mark into the softer flesh there. Despite his penchant for biting, Adolin was usually careful not to leave marks that stayed - _‘You think I don’t know how appearances affect command, Bridgeboy? I’m not going to jeopardize your authority by giving your men something to gossip about.’_ \- but he certainly had no issue with making ones that faded fast.

“And whose fault is that?” Kaladin huffed, though he broke off into a gasp as Adolin wedged a knee between his and nudged them apart, rocking his hips forward and pressing Kaladin back against the wall. Adolin's cock slid alongside his, rucking up his shirt, and his own left smears of precome across the bared skin of Adolin's stomach.

“Oh, I'll gladly take the blame, if it means I get to see you like this.” Grinning unrepentantly, Adolin thumbed off the lid on the bottle and coated his palm generously with the remainder of the oil before tossing the empty bottle aside, then reaching down to take them both in hand. “When you let yourself _let go_.”

 _Storming smug bastard_ , Kaladin silently reiterated, and shifted to thread his fingers around Adolin's, even as he bit his lip against the threat of a moan. He didn’t need to look down; the heat of Adolin's shaft against his was familiar, pressed together in their firm, slick grasp, and his eyelids fluttered at the start-and-stutter of erratic movement as they both thrust shallowly - eager, _aching_. Damp with oil and precum, Kaladin slipped his hand up, the pad of his thumb glancing roughly over his lover’s slit, and smirked as Adolin groaned and the motion of his hips faltered. Kaladin leaned in until he could feel his own breath coasting across Adolin’s lips. “Careful, princeling, or the one losing it will be _you_.”

“And whose fault is _that_?” Adolin echoed. Kaladin almost expected a thrust in response, one that would slam him back with nearly enough force to bruise. Instead, Adolin slid his hand down across the small of Kaladin’s back, a callused warmth between skin and the rougher texture of his coat, and that broad hand spanned wide over his rear as one finger dipped down through the cleft to tug sharply, _teasingly_ at the hole stretched open just earlier. The fading sense of emptiness surged back with a vengeance, and Kaladin bucked into their joined grasp, arching off of the wall. His hands abandoned all else to rise and scrabble at his lover’s shoulders as Adolin pressed back against him with a muffled growl, chest to chest, groin to groin, and that lone finger pulling him open _burned_. Breath and bared teeth coasted across his skin as Adolin shoved him bodily back against the unyielding surface. “And isn’t that what you want, _Kaladin?_ ”

The emptiness ached. “In me,” Kaladin snarled, fingertips digging sharp and pleading into Adolin’s back. “ _In_ me, now, _damn_ you, Kholin...!”

He didn’t think those bright blue eyes could get any darker, and yet they _did_ , blown wide and black with lust as Adolin slid both hands under Kaladin’s ass, hitching the taller man up against the wall as his breathing grew erratic. Kaladin’s few extra inches of height made it just a little easier when they were standing like this; he raised his leg, dragging it up along Adolin's until the prince caught it under the knee and pulled the leg up to hook around his waist. Adolin let his hand linger, palming the underside of Kaladin’s thigh and hefting it just a little higher, his other hand reaching down to guide himself. A tiny gasp wrenched from Kaladin's throat as the tip of Adolin's cock nudged his slickened, tight furl, then pushed _in_.

There it was, finally - the ache, the stretch, the spreading _fullness_. Adolin ducked his face into the side of Kaladin's neck, breathing hot and shallow against his collarbone, and Kaladin's lips parted, eyes falling half-shut and his arms tightening around the other man as Adolin buried himself deeper. Kaladin pulled his leg tighter around Adolin's waist, urging him closer, _faster_ , but Adolin kept to his steady pace, the inexorable press that had Kaladin clutching tight to Adolin’s coat until he bottomed out, sheathed to the hilt.

Adolin released a shivering breath, his hips trembling against the impulse to _move_ , and Kaladin could feel the soft flicker of eyelashes across his skin before Adolin nudged his cheek with his nose. “All right?”

Kaladin nodded slightly, jerkily, as the tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips and his thigh settled more comfortably against Adolin’s side. It was a lot to take in, to adjust to, but the stretching had done its job well; what slight discomfort there was melted away in favour of the thrumming beat of his pulse and the thick, insistent heat of the cock inside him. “Go.” It almost more of an exhale than a word, an unsteady release as his chest shuddered with his search for air. “Come on, princeling, fu-”

The sudden thrust slammed him back, and Kaladin caught his breath in a choked gasp. Adolin did not pause, motion turning to momentum as he found a rhythm; Kaladin met him on each surge of hips, breath growing increasingly more ragged, and did not even think of suppressing his instinctive noise of sheer pleasure when they hit just the right angle. No thought at all, in some momentary fleeting flickers, just feeling, _being_ , the building bliss of heat and friction and the weight of Adolin holding him up and pinning him in place.

It wasn't the easiest or least awkward of positions, but Kaladin wasn't about to complain when it let Adolin push this _deep_. One hand rising to the other man’s nape for steadiness, he pressed the corner of his mouth to Adolin’s temple - less a kiss than pure, intimate closeness, his breath ruffling gold-and-black hair. Kaladin's other hand dug hard into the prince’s back, holding him fast and urging him for more, _faster_ , even as he clenched tight and quieted a keen. The embroidery of the Kholin glyphpair was smooth against his palm. There would be no scratches, not this time, what with the heavy coat a shield between nails and skin, but he heard, he _felt_ the shudder against his chest as Adolin stifled a low, rumbling groan. A stutter in the rhythm, and Kaladin felt the hand at his hip leave to wrap around his cock instead. A shiver crackled up his spine, and he knew it wouldn’t take long.

“Kaladin.”

Kaladin bit his lip at the sound. Under his fingertips, a quiver thrummed through Adolin’s shoulders, and the quick, firm strokes that smeared precum down his shaft were just on the edge of frantic. The world was made of lightning-strikes of sensation, of warmth in him and around him and churning low in his belly. Words failed him, any reply to his name lost in the rapt, cresting pleasure, unraveling at the edges as that looming stormwall frayed away any last chance of coherent thought.

“ _Kaladin_ ,” his name, his _name_ \- that one word, low and throaty and wrought with all the sure love that made his heart ache.

“Mine.” Kaladin breathed, and his hand tightened on the nape of Adolin's neck. “ _Mine_.”

A fractured whimper tore from his lips at the answering thrust, and cut off just as abruptly, a sharp jolt searing through every nerve as Adolin’s teeth sank into his shoulder, and Kaladin _shattered_.

Dimly, he registered the flood of warmth as Adolin spilled within him. His vision was blurry, unfocused, breaths hard and panting as he came down from the blinding high of release, though his hand still clenched tight in Adolin’s coat, as he did around the softening cock inside. A tremble wracked him - _both_ of them - as the adrenaline began to recede and the sheer exertion of sex in this position started to catch up to them. Adolin let go of his hold on Kaladin’s thigh as both sank to the floor, coats pooling into a sea of blue around them. Kaladin’s legs bracketed Adolin’s sides as his knees settled on the ground, his waistcoat buttons pressing into the bare skin of Adolin’s chest as he leaned forward, probably getting his own release smeared over the fabric as he did so. Adolin tilted his chin up and caught Kaladin in a kiss, burying both hands in Kaladin’s long, thick hair as his tongue sought the other’s, slow and unhurried in the dull sparks of afterglow.

A twinge shot from Kaladin’s hairline to his tailbone as Adolin trailed a hand down to stroke his thumb back and forth over the bite mark just above Kaladin’s collarbone - not a painful one, but the indents were still darkened and throbbing with his heartbeat. Kaladin felt the hint of smugness in the curve of Adolin’s lips against his as the other man spoke, “Sorry about that.”

“No you’re not.”

A laugh, sunlight cut through with the rumble of a storm. “No, I’m not.” He pressed in for a kiss, closemouthed, lips still tender and pliant. “Are you going to get off of me anytime soon?”

Kaladin snorted, a muffled huff that slid into a hum - quiet, content. “If I do, it’s probably going to dirty your uniform trousers, princeling. As I doubt you clean them yourself, how are you going to explain the stains to the poor servant who does?”

“I think that’s already a lost cause. Besides-” Adolin gently nipped at Kaladin’s lower lip, dragging it slowly between his teeth before bestowing a light peck of a kiss. “Hazards of the relationship, Bridgeboy.”

A relationship that Adolin had stayed loyal to; his eye might follow the flicker of a skirt now and again, but nothing more, from a man who’d once courted his way through every eligible woman in the Kholin warcamp. _But not anymore._ Kaladin reached up, fingertips curling along Adolin’s jawline as his thumb stroked softly along one of those high cheekbones. “Are you going to say it back this time?”

“Say wh-” The syllable cut off as Kaladin watched thought catch up with question. _‘Mine’_ , Kaladin had called him. A pause hung in the air as a flicker of pure yearning crossed Adolin's face, fraught with such _want_ that it was almost painful to see; but he held back, as always, for fear of what buried hurt he might uncover. Kaladin breathed out, eyes sliding half-shut as he gently rested his forehead against Adolin’s, dark hair and patchwork alike falling to frame the edges of his vision.

“ _Adolin_. I’m not going to break. Or run.” _It’s not a cage. This… what we have… it’s belonging to one another. A hand freely offered, to be taken in return._ He hesitated, and the unsteadiness of his voice betrayed him. “You’re mine, princeling. Am I not…?”

Warmth. The back of Adolin’s knuckles brushed a curve over the jut of his hipbone as a hand slipped between shirt and skin to curl and spread against his side. It wasn’t an enticing touch, just... _there_ , solid and anchoring as Adolin mirrored him, reaching up to cup his face as he tilted in, lips and noses bumping, breath mingling. The gleam of blue encompassed his sight.

“ _Mine._ ”


End file.
